Djet Neheh
by SpookOrSpectre
Summary: Egyptian for eternal; temporal totality. "Has always been and will always be." This is a collection of related and unrelated events, big and small, that represent the things that sapient life has always known, and will likely always know... in the world of Zootopia of course.
1. Didkskō

**A/N: ****This is a little experiment. I haven't found many places to really demonstrate connections between characters or have characters express emotion, so this story is going to be all about that. Connecting with others and the emotions that come with are concepts that have been around as long as life has, and this is the reason for the title of this story. Djet Neheh is not an easy concept to understand, as Egyptians viewed time differently than we do. **

**Neheh is more similar to our understanding of time, except that it is cyclical (think of days, seasons, etc...) and also that it always comes to us rather than passing us. We say time flies, implying it goes away, a saying that would leave ancient egyptians utterly confused.**

**Djet is more similar to eternity, and refers to the things that have already come to fruition and been completed over time. Similar to time immemorial (Ultu Ulla in Sumerian, an equally ancient language).**

**The Egyptians, living in the cities like Thinis and Memphis, likely experienced many of the same things that this story will explore. They lived in eons long gone, in cities, some of the first to do so, yet we have known cities since what we call time immemorial. And still, they had a word for things that had seemingly always been, things that existed in the ancient eons before even they could remember. **

**This story is about those things.**

* * *

The bowl made a thump as it was put on the wooden worktable. The tiger that set the ceramic art piece down then began arranging his glazes, getting ready to add some color to the blank bowl. He thought about the implications of calling it a canvas; it was not physically canvas, but there would be little wrong with calling it one. It was a blank canvas of ceramic for paint made of glass.

While he spent most of his time making - and teaching his students how to make - ceramics, his degrees were in English. Currently, though, his pottery knowledge was required, as a young whitetail deer doe walked up to him with a jar in hoof. He looked over at the concerned young lady and smiled.

"What seems to be the Jenny, problem?" He asked jokingly, the doe's concern turning into amusement.

"Well, Mr. Lidded Jar, my Stribe seems to be fused together."

"Ha! Good one. Let's see what we can do here," he said, taking the piece in paw. He eyed the seam between the lid and the body, and concluded that the glaze was the culprit.

"You think it's the clay? It had only been fired once, not the final firing," Jenny wondered, hoping that her project wasn't scraped.

"Nah, it's definitely just the glaze, it got in there and stuck it together. We can just tap it apart with one of these wood things," he said, taking out a wooden mallet and lightly tapping on the lid.

"Aren't there words for these things?" Jenny asked, figuring the doctorate of English would be a little more eloquent.

"Eh, there might be, but what's the point?"

"Well... what if you want to be more specific?" She asked, the rhythmic tapping of the lid being disrupted slightly by a chuckle from the cat.

"Well, then I might use some more words, but in many words is much foolishness. You know, a colleague once asked me to stop using so many analogies, thought it wasn't a genuine way to get students to understand something. I told him 'you find a way to tell someone something new without using an analogy, I'll give you a million dollars.' He hasn't figured anything out yet, not that I know of," he said, turning the jar around to tap at a different angle.

"What about just describing something? Like, an apple is round and red... it's not exact but its something, and it's not an analogy," she asked. He raised his eyebrows and gestured to her with the tool.

"Oh but it is. You are comparing it to round and red things, even if you are being more general, it is still an analogy, in a way. More like symbolism, I guess, but still a comparison and a reference to something."

"Huh... never thought of it that way. Isn't everything like that? Aren't all our words just analogies? Trying to teach someone else something that we already know?"

The lid came apart from the jar, finally.

"Yeah, crazy isn't it?"

...

He sat on the concrete step next to the old goat, the young cheetah deciding to have a chat with his neighbor. He looked down the street to see a police car pass through a distant intersection, and It reminded him of his friend; the leopard had put a rather conflicting dilemma in his paws. She had been tormented by a warthog for many years, and recently lashed out against him. The overgrown pig wasn't very happy.

"You think you could give me some advice on something?" The youngster asked the oldster.

"If it's about girls it won't be any good," the senior said, making the cheetah laugh

"No, no girls... well, not in the way you mean."

"Ha! Oh, well I'll see what I can say."

"So, I've got this friend, she's a leopard, and this bully's been bothering her for like three years, and a week or two ago she attacked him, cut up his face real bad cause he got too close. Now he's walkin around talking about how she's gonna pay, I think there's some rumors that he's gonna... like... rape her. You think I should tell the police? I don't wanna be a snitch or-" He said, cut off by the goat.

"Oh, you hold it right there young man. If this girl is gonna get hurt, you gotta do somethin. You know people always say something like 'being indifferent to crime is criminal itself,' and I disagree a little, you know, it's never black and white like that, but what I do know is that if you don't say somethin, nobody's gonna do nothing, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah..."

"That goes back to the Romans... they used to say 'where there is no accuser, there is no judge.' It means if you don't accuse someone, if you don't call them out, they won't get judged, or punished. It's up to you whether you want to take some flak, but between a little bad publicity and a friend getting hurt like that, I know what I'd pick."

"Yeah... I guess I just gotta do it. I'm kinda scared though, I don't want that guy coming after me."

"Hey, he starts giving you trouble you send him over to me, I'll give him a thing or two to talk about," the goat said, holding up his frail hoofs in a fighting stance. The two laughed, and the cheetah finally felt relieved.

"Yeah... hey thanks, man... I guess I shouldn't be selfish but... I feel like sometimes you gotta protect yourself, you know?"

"Well, you can either put yourself on other's backs, or put others on your back. I think you know which is gonna make you stronger."

"Yeah but... what's gonna get you farther?"

He looked the young cheetah in the eye.

"What does it matter if you regret everything you did to get yourself there?"

...

The wolf set the teapot down on the mat next to his master, a snow leopard. The western explorer had spent a month at the temple high in the mountains now. Yet, even after a month, the old cat never failed to teach him something new, and he looked forward to what she would teach him today. He sat himself down next to the wise leopard and began to meditate with her. After a minute of breathing and trying to find his inner peace, he heard her clean and light voice speak.

"Can you feel the mountains move?" She asked. He was confused, but immediately captured by whatever she had to say.

"No..." he responded, his eyes still closed.

"Can you hear the wind in the valley below?"

"Uhh... no?"

"And smell the fish in the market in town?"

"No, Master," he said, figuring this was actually the correct answer.

"And your qi?"

"No..." he said, his momentum halted, almost disappointed in himself.

"Yet the mountains do move, you told me about the movements of the earth, which you believe, and you have felt the wind in the valley, and seen the fish in the market. You believe in all those things, don't you?"

"I do."

"Then why not qi? I know you are doubtful..."

"I... I don't know... why wouldn't we just be able to feel it naturally?"

"Why can you not feel the mountains move naturally?"

"Well, we can, but only during earthquakes..."

"Ah... and why do you not smell the fish, or hear the wind?"

"I'm too far away."

"Exactly. For the mountains, you must wait, come closer to their movements in time. For the smells and sounds, you must get closer in space. For qi, you must get closer spiritually," she said. He felt a strange warmth fill his heart, a question long open now answered.

"How?" He asked.

"For space, we walk. For time, we wait. For qi, we think," she said. She knew that now, since he actually had hope of finding his energy, he would see results. He sat, silent, trying to think about the energy around him.

"What exactly should I think about?"

"Nothing. Think of your being, of where you are, but ignore both. Forget what you know, and be at peace... just, try to get away from your body, find a calm place," she said. He felt the cool wind against his nose, his ears, his pawpads, and tried to leave it. He suddenly felt warm, like he was in sunlight, but he was still not able to feel the flow, just the warmth. Then he took a breath and felt muscles relax that he didn't know he had.

It felt like a light breeze flowing against his very skin on a hot day, traveling right through his fur. It was qi, it must have been, and he now understood why it was called _air._ It was like the air he breathed was flowing into his muscles and bones, into his joints and tendons. The fluffy cat next to him looked over quietly and saw that he had relaxed; he had found it.

"Feels good, no?" She said. Her soft voice echoed in his head, and he slowly came back to the cold world he had seemingly left. He looked over to her.

"Yeah... I understand now."

She smiled and nodded slowly.

"Like the many that have come to understand before you."

* * *

**A/N: I'd like to note that I did take some creative liscence with qi (pronounced chi). Typically qi is channeled through movement and posture. What I thought of here is a mixture of Buddhist prayer/meditation (focusing on nothing) and the concept of qi.**


	2. Ang-bet

**A/N: I was having a difficult time with this chapter. The first part took a while to clean up, and I really wanted a second part in between, one relating to the previous chapter, but I just couldn't think of anything that would feel natural and that would fit the tone. The chapters and scenes will be interconnected for the most part, though some scenes will be standalone.**

**The name of the previous chapter, Didkskō, means "learn" in what is called "Proto-Indo-European," the language spoken in ancient Europe, long before any of the countries we know, long even before Rome. This chapter is "ang-bet," Ket for "(to) be sad."**

**Ket is a language from the middle of Siberia, Russia, and it is a descendant of the language family that is believed to have been spoken by the humans that traveled across the Bering land bridge during the last ice age. The languages they spoke turned into all native American languages, and the language group was also well represented in prehistoric Siberia.**

**Another truly ancient word with a very familiar meaning.**

* * *

She sat at her desk, the rabbit utterly tired from another day's work. Nick had been staying at home for the last week with a severely broken leg, and it hadn't been easy on either of them. She was assigned a new partner, for the time being; Wolford. Judy hated to think it, but while the wolf was a good guy, he wasn't Nick. Nobody was Nick.

She typed the report into her computer nearly one key at a time, lacking the energy to do it at her typical pace. The report was on a teenaged pig who had crashed her car while trying to text and drive, damaging a utility pole and another vehicle. Thankfully nobody was killed, unlike last week when Nick was making a traffic stop on the highway.

A distracted bear ran over his leg after the fox got out of his cruiser, and proceeded to ram into the vehicle of the mammal he had stopped. The young wolf he had pulled over was on her way to work at a law firm and had been driving ten miles over the speed limit, citing being late to a meeting.

She was going to get a warning from Nick, but instead, she was given a death sentence. Though she was still alive, the doctors had little hope; even in the unlikely event that she survived, she would be severely brain damaged and paralyzed from the chest down. The bear survived, uninjured of course, as the distracted drivers always did.

Judy slammed her fist on the keyboard, shaking the whole desk, and grabbed her ears. She rested her elbows on the desk and pulled until she could feel her eardrums complaining, stretched by the movement of the cartilage around them.

"Woah, Judy..." Wolford said, caught off guard by the noise. She immediately started weeping, unable to handle all of the horrible thoughts the report brought back. Wolford scooted his chair over and put a paw on her back, holding her arm with the other paw. She let go of her ears and rested her head on the desk.

He had never seen her like this, and it almost scared him to see the strong rabbit falling apart. She wasn't exactly stoic and emotionless, but the only emotions he had ever seen her express were either positive, neutral, or at the worst slightly negative, but nothing like this. After a minute or two of patting her back, she seemed to have calmed down.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"I- I just... what happened to Nick, and this report..." she said.

"I know, I'm so sorry about what happened to Nick," he said.

"Thank you... It's not just him though, the wolf that was in the car..." she said, unable to actually talk about what happened to the poor mammal.

"I know... I'd like to say everything happens for a reason but..."

"Dying while trying to get to work because some asshole was on his phone... its bullshit... and what about Nick, you know how guilty he is? He... he feels like he killed someone!" she said.

"Oh god..." Wolford thought, tearing up at the thought. He knew what it felt like to have a life in your paws and to let it slip away.

...

The large moose ducked through the doorway into the dark hospital room. It was eight at night, and he had come straight from his home after hearing the news. He saw his employee, one he had interviewed and hired just two weeks ago, lying motionless on the bed. The wolf was covered in bandages and had a large plastic brace around her torso. The old moose took off his felt derby hat and sat down in the chair next to the bed.

He had just come back from a family vacation and had neglected to check his work email while he was out. The moment he was home and saw the cluster of emails about Emily he rushed out of the house. Being the mammal he was, he had dressed in his best suit; a brown coat he had owned since his college days many years ago, along with dark brown slacks and a navy blue tie on a white shirt. This was the outfit he wore when he wanted the formality of his clothes to actually reflect how sincere he was.

He held his hat to his chest and listened as various monitors beeped. As a lawyer, there were not many times in life where he had felt speechless, but this was one of those times. After a while of looking for words, he gave up, figuring she was lonely and would appreciate whatever he had to say, even if it was just to tell her that it was raining.

"Hey Emily... I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, or if you can even hear me, but... I hope you're having sweet dreams... I- I hope that you are doin' better than some of us because we're real sorry about what happened. I would take your place a thousand times over... You know I, I've lived my life... I've got no new loves to marry... don't need to have more fauns... got no more houses to buy... no more jobs to get, promotions, no money to make... helped enough mammals, hurt enough and learned... settled enough cases. I've paid my dues and had my good times, and I'd give the world to let you do the same...

"If I had known this would have happened, I would have given you the day off... I would have given you a week, a month off, rather than see you like this. I bet the cops that pulled you over, they woulda given you an escort rather than a ticket if they knew... and I bet that bear... that bear woulda put down that phone..." he said, struggling through the talk of the bear. He had already exhausted his emotional supply, but he knew he couldn't just leave her, she was all alone.

"The weather has been nice the last few days, not a cloud... I know the doctors say you... you might not get the chance, but hang in there, I bet when you wake up it'll still be a nice, sunny day. Look at me, talkin about the weather... you know Alfred Moosebridge, Peter Moosebridge's father, he was a friend of mine. He was the weatherman for ZNN for many years... can't remember how long, but when he ran into people or met someone at the store he always used to talk about the weather. Back in the day nobody had televisions, and if they didn't listen to the radio, they'd have no idea who he was.

"Everybody would always come talking to me, asking why he was so bad at small talk, why he always resorted to the weather. One day I finally told him 'Al, you gotta stop tellin everyone about the weather, people think you're a nutcase.' He just looked at me and said 'well how else are they gonna know?'... guy just wanted to tell people about the weather, that's what he liked to do..." he said. He continued to sit and chat to his silent converser for as long as he could think, eventually growing too tired to continue speaking.

"Well I hate to leave but I'm getting tired, and I'm sure my wife is gettin worried, so I better head home. I'll see you around Emily," he said, standing up and putting on his hat. He turned to leave but paused before walking away. He took the handkerchief out of his pocket and put it in the wolf's paw, clasping his hooves around the fluffy, delicate thing. He set her paw down with the handkerchief, and gave it a pat goodbye.


	3. Nirjana

**A/N: Sorry I haven't been posting much, I've been back in school and haven't found much time or inspiration. I've also been working on a Halloween special that I plan on releasing in its entirety on/leading up to Halloween.**

**This chapter is called "nirjana," Sanskrit for lonely. Another one of the oldest, most influential languages with a word very familiar to all of us.**

* * *

She sat on the frigid ice, her legs crossed, letting the cold air sting her eyes until they watered. She looked out over the vast expanse before her; the glowing city, the traffic on the water, the desolation of the mountains. It was an incredible view from over nine-thousand feet, but that was not why she found herself here. She had come to escape, to meditate and find a calm, a peace of sorts, but all she found was isolation.

She was completely alone, far away from any other mammals - optimal for meditation - but, somehow, the separation in space did nothing for her. All she could feel at the moment was the wind on her fur and the darkness in her mind. Something far deeper and colder than the darkest winter night in the mountains had chilled her to the bone. It had been many years since she had felt like this, and she could handle it no better now than she did then.

She was lonely.

She spent her entire life training, teaching. and practicing traditional medicine, martial arts, meditation, all of the ancient traditions passed down through time. After all those years spent with the timeless, it had finally become the archaic. Her company was now hopeless youth ordered to the temple by their parents for misbehavior and tourists who had romanticized, ludicrous idolizations of the traditions. There were no other masters of the art like her left.

She thought of all the mammals in the city. The cynical worker who was jaded by the world and laughs at the sight of tradition. The highly educated doctor who frowns on and ridicules her outdated methods. The youth who ignore and disregard the archaic teachings. There was nobody, but it was more than just a lack of masters.

She came from a time where the practices were still up for debate; changed when it was seen fit, when a better method was found. A time when spirituality was seen as a metaphor, not as the answer to all. When the monks and teachers practiced to give aid to those in need and to keep themselves and those around them healthy, strong, and wise.

But those times were gone. Now the traditions were seen as being forged over the coals of gods and prophets, hard steel to retain its form forever. Holy books are seen as the textbooks of truth. Monks and masters are hacks, working to make money off of travelers and simpletons.

She had known that the world was becoming like this for many years, but it was only now that she felt the knife of isolation buried in her chest. The only other mammal at the temple who saw the world through her eyes was gone. He had left in the early morning, leaving a note to her. While she had known for weeks that he was going to leave, it was no less of a shock. The note had praised her as a teacher, as a friend, and as an inspiration.

She cried when she read the note and felt little solace with the consolations of the other mammals in the temple. Nobody could understand why she was so upset. It was obvious that the two had a connection of some kind; a formal, professional relationship clearly. But, truth be told, he was more to her than simply a student. He was like a son, and she loved him like one. He was smart and kind but young and foolish all the same.

And now he was gone, so she sat atop a mountain, letting the wind sting her crying eyes.

...

The leopard sat on her bed, too sick with anxiety to even look at her phone. She didn't want to see another message about the warthog, it was already consuming her. After five years she decided that the pig should be done with his idiocy, and it was made blatantly apparent to him. Her claws were still discolored by his blood, and it had taken hours to get them this clean. She remembered picking the pieces of flesh out and crying, knowing that nothing good would come of the shallow victory.

Now he was sure to do much worse than call her names and give her the occasional shove. She couldn't run, she had to go to school, that was the law, and she couldn't hide, there was just no way. She was left with nothing to do but live in fear and wait for her retribution.

None of her friends were brave enough to stand up against the bastard either. She didn't know if they were cowards or if they were simply smarter than her. She picked up a plushy from her pillow and hugged the tiny cat. Tears soaked into the fur around her eyes, and she felt her stomach wrenching, anxiety crushing her from the inside out.

Her mother called her down for dinner, but there was no hope for her eating, and she didn't want to see her parents anyway. The only thing she wanted was a group of friends to shield her, and hug her, and keep her safe. But her friends were only with her in spirit, trying to calm her down with words rather than actions. She prayed that it would all be over soon, and waited, alone, for something to happen.

...

The beeping had almost become imperceptible to her, but it still hadn't faded into the background. It was an eerily pleasant reminder that she was still alive. She had tried to count the beeps but, eventually, she fell into an even deeper sleep than she was already in. She had made it to thirteen-thousand six-hundred and twenty-seven, a staggering number to someone who isn't in a coma. She had always wondered what being in a coma was like, and now she had her answer, and that answer was boring.

_beep... beep... beep_

Waking up to familiar voices on occasion was wonderful; a reprieve from silence and solitude, but the pain of knowing she couldn't reply killed her. She was probably awake right now, but there was no good way to tell, and there was no way for her to show it either.

_beep... beep... beep_

She remembered the first day, the horror of realizing her condition, the pain of listening to her friends and family be told that she was likely going to die. It was a horrible, terrible despair, knowing that her family was weeping over her but she couldn't comfort them.

_beep... beep... beep_

She remembered when her new boss came in and rambled to her for hours. There was a strange bittersweetness to it, hearing the old moose tell all his stories. Hearing him talk about his life experiences made her all the more uncomfortable with the fact that she might be reaching the end of hers. Yet, all the same, hearing his gentle voice and kind words were one of the best things to ever happen to her. It made her incredibly happy; it was the kindest thing a mammal has ever done for her.

_beep... beep... beep_

But he wasn't there now.

_beep... beep... beep_

Nobody was.

_beep... beep... beep_

And so she sat.

_beep... beep... beep_

And counted the beeps.


	4. Z'm

**זעם**

**H****ebrew, transliterated as "z'm" meaning rage or wrath. Unsurprisingly, there is profanity.**

* * *

The fox got out of the cruiser, leaving Judy to watch the road. He had only taken a few steps before he heard the screech of tires. He dived out of the way, not even knowing what he was diving from, and felt the horrible sensation in his left leg. He would never forget it; the speed and ferocity with which his ankle was crushed would live forever in his mind. He didn't even hear the bending of steel and breaking glass as the car slammed into the car he had pulled over.

The extreme pain started a few moments later, and he rolled over to see the horror show that his leg was putting on. The pain was becoming too much, and he felt himself become dizzy. He passed out just as Judy got out of the cruiser. She ran to him, screaming.

"NICK! NICK!" She cried, kneeling by him. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the horrible state of his hindpaw, and she checked his pulse. "Oh my god... oh my god," she said, her voice catching. He was still alive. She had only seen him dive, she didn't know that it was just his leg that was injured. The brown bear stumbled out of his vehicle relatively unharmed but shook up. He looked over to the police officers, the probably dead fox and the rabbit who was crying and kneeling next to him.

He stumbled to the car in front of his and looked into the destroyed vehicle. A white wolf was laying across the armrest, totally motionless. Everything was covered in glass, and the smell of gas filled the air. He reached into the car to unlock the door and it failed to do as he asked. He saw the fuel leaking below and decided there was no time. He grabbed the door the best he could and ripped it right off of its hinges. He used his claws to cut the seatbelt off of the wolf and carefully cradled her. He knew if she had a spine injury that he could be paralyzing her, but he couldn't leave her in a timebomb.

he lifted her gently out of her seat and felt as the blood from her muzzle dripped down his arm. He walked back to the officers and laid the wolf down in front of their cruiser. He looked over the scene. Two totaled cars, and two totaled mammals. How the fuck could he have been so careless. He balled his fists and beat them against his head. He walked back to his car and found his phone, twisting and crushing it in his paws. He threw it as far as he could.

He roared. He punched the car and watched as it dented and deformed. He ripped the door off and started pounding it against the vehicle. He bent down and picked up the side of the car, rolling it on its side. It wasnt enough. Nothing would ever be enough. All there was left to do was to look up to the sky and scream at the god that let him do this.

...

It was getting late. She should have gone home, but she couldn't. All she wanted to do was pace around the dark back alleys. The leopard didn't want to see another mammal for the rest of her life. Nobody was on her side, she was foolish to them all, no sympathy whatsoever. _You shouldn't have lost your temper... you shouldn't have used your claws... you should have just avoided him_.

_Maybe I just shouldn't even fuckin exist__ if this is how shit works in this world.__ I'd like to see them bullied their whole life and keep their cool, to have claws and not have the thought cross their mind to fuckin use them._

She put a claw to her wrist. It was a swipe away. An included delete button for her life. She would be found in the alleyway in a pool of blood, but that wouldn't be her problem. Nothing would be her problem, not anymore. But if she did it, that warthog would win. The assholes that chose to give her criticism rather than sympathy would call it cowardly, another stupid decision. They would be right, with nobody to correct their stupidity.

She was fucked. She had no regrets for what she did, that warthog would live with his mangled face, a fate fitting for such an internally ugly mammal, and despite his threats he was scared shitless of the cat. She had gotten the short end of the stick; her fate was cruel, unmerciful, unjust. She was getting declawed in a week and would live the rest of her life the idiot who couldn't control herself. She kicked a garbage can, the empty bin rattling as it flew. Her hindpaw hurt but she didn't care. She turned to the brick wall and dragged her claws across the abrasive blocks, leaving a trail of keratin, sheared off by the grains of sand.

She did it again, leaving more streaks. Again, but this time a sensation she knew all too well, a pinching, met her mid-swipe. It was too quick to react to, and the pain set in extremely quickly. She watched as blood poured out of the exposed and ground off nailbeds, grunting in pain.

"FUCK!" She screamed.

It echoed through the night.

...

The tiger sat down in the chair presented to him. His boss, a friend of many years, had called him into his office. Normally John would just stop by his office if he needed to say something. It must be important.

"So hows it goin?" Peter asked the deer.

"It's uh... its not great Peter," John said. The tiger was immediately concerned. "There's... there's nothing I can say... I got word that I would have to let you go," the deer said.

"What... John, what..."

"I don't know," John said, tears welling in his eyes.

"How the hell can you fire me! I've been working here for twenty-two years!" Peter shouted.

"Peter it's not-"

"How am I supposed to get a fuckin job! You know how many positions are open for a goddamn ceramic artist!" He said, furious.

"I know-" John said. There was nothing to say.

"What am I supposed to fuckin do, flip burgers for another five years before I get a real job!" He yelled.

"I DON'T KNOW PETER! I don't fucking know, okay!" he sobbed. "Somebody gave me a piece of fuckin paper... and told me to fire my best goddamn friend."

There was silence.

"Fuck... Can't you do anything?" He asked, still angry but not at John anymore.

"I tried everything... those fuckers were hellbent on this..."

"Goddamnit!" The tiger said. He stood up and left the room, hearing a "Peter" as he walked away. He walked down the hall to the president's office. He slammed his paw into the door a few times and opened it, a shocked buffalo inside. "Fuck you, Shelly!" He said quickly, slamming the door.


	5. Oi

**A/N: It has been a very long while since I updated this, but here is ****Oi, Cantonese/Hakka for "Love." Hopefully this gives you the warm fuzzies.**

* * *

The doctor scrubbed his hooves, feeling sick to his stomach. He was about to perform a surgery that he didn't want to perform, and according to the crowds outside, nobody else wanted him to either. The deer dried his hooves and looked at them carefully as he did so, unable to wipe away the thought of losing a part of them. He put the nitrile gloves over them, turning to face the room. His company was an unconscious leopard, who was on the table today, and two nurses, a pig and a wolf. The pig was peeking through the blinds and let out a sigh.

"We aren't alone at least," he said, stepping away from the window, not wanting to see the protestors. He couldn't stand the idea of what they were about to do either, but it had to be done, and looking at them made him feel even worse. There was a reason declawing hadn't been done in years; it was wrong. But they had a court order to complete the surgery and they weren't in a position to disobey.

The doctor couldn't even speak, he couldn't think, there was nothing he could do. Half his life was spent saving paws and helping mammals, but today he was being used as an instrument of punishment. It was impossible to process. He stood by the table and picked up the scalpel and look at his canvas soon to be maimed, but he set the knife back down. He picked up the leopard's paw and felt the soft but sturdy thing through his gloves. The pig and wolf looked at him, nervous, hoping the doctor had some sort of solace for the two, some reason not to feel wrong.

He felt the fur brush against the smooth rubber. He felt the smooth hardness of the claws and the bumpy scabs where she had scraped them off. He felt the phalanges and the joints between them. He felt the metatarsals. It was all perfect; young and healthy. He could give an anatomy lesson with this paw.

He made his decision. He had gotten into paw surgery to help mammals, not disfigure them. He set her paw down.

"Take the IV out, wake her up," he said firmly. The nurses looked at him, relieved but taken aback.

"But-"

"The last declawing was more than twenty years ago, and there shouldn't ever be another, especially not on my damn table," he said, looking up at the two in comradery.

"What about the court order?"

"I took an oath to 'first do no harm,' so they can take their court order somewhere else," he said, nodding to the two and taking a deep breath. It felt good to do the right thing. The two nurses smiled and started getting the IV out of the leopard, relieved but nervous, though in a new way, a more excited, rebellious type of nervous. The cat was awake in mere seconds, opening her eyes and groaning slightly, mildly intoxicated by the anesthesia.

"Good morning," the wolf said, putting a paw on the cat's shoulder.

"Uh... what... oh god," the leopard said quietly, slowly coming-to but quickly remembering where she was. She didn't want to look at her paws.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked. A tear rolled down the cat's cheek; she didn't want to speak, especially not to the one who had just declawed her.

"Hey, it's ok, we aborted the procedure," the wolf said, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

"You what?" She asked.

"We didn't declaw you. We aren't going to," the deer said. The leopardess opened her eyes and lifted her shaking paws to see them, smiling when she saw he was telling the truth.

"Ha! Huh!" She exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. She immediately sat up from the table and hugged the doctor, nuzzling his shoulder. He patted her back as she cried tears of joy, and he couldn't help but do the same. It felt good, better than he had felt in a long time. He let go of the young cat and patted her shoulder, wiping a tear from his eye.

"So... why didn't you do it?"

"Because I love paws."

...

She walked back from her mountain visit, hoping that it wasn't obvious she had been crying. She was still upset but there were no more tears, only an emptiness inside that she couldn't seem to fill. The snow leopard tracked through the crunchy snow, close to the monastery but far away in her mind. She saw a lone traveler coming up the long path and ignored their presence, figuring it was just another monk or visitor from the city. She reached the building and opened the heavy wooden door, closing it behind herself and looking at the decorated interior.

It would never be the same. She passed by his quarters and looked in at the empty room, the emptiness in her chest welling in her throat, choking her into a sob. She held her paws together and paced around in circles, meditating and trying to come to terms with her loss. He had always been a visitor but she didn't know how she was supposed to prepare for his departure. The wolf was like a son to her.

That was why he came back. As she paced, the front doors opened, and out of the cold came a tall mammal in a familiar jacket. She knew it immediately, it was him. She ran to him and hugged him, burying her head in his chest, and he returned the hug in full.

"I'm so glad you came back..." she said. "I wasn't ready for you to leave."

"I'm glad I came back too..." he said. Her strong embrace was welcome after the day of emotional strife he'd had. It wasn't easy to make the decision to cancel his flight back home, but once he made it, he knew it was the right one. He patted the snow leopard's back and felt the warmth fill his heart. He took a deep breath and the two separated, smiling at each other.

"So, how about some food?" She asked, smelling what was coming from the kitchen.

"After the day I had, that sounds pretty good," he replied.

...

Nick sat on the couch, waiting as Judy made the popcorn. His leg was doing better, only needing an ankle brace now that his toes were healed. Most of the fur had grown back too, though there was still a patch or two left to fill in. Judy sat down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and cuddled up next to her fox.

"Wiggle your toes again," she said. He rolled his eyes and smiled, doing as she asked.

"You are a weird bunny," he teased.

"I'm just excited to see you getting better," she retorted, reaching up to feed him a piece of popcorn. She booped his nose and he swatted her paw away playfully, making her giggle.

"Don't you boop me," he said in a low voice. She gave him the bowl of popcorn and went down to his hindpaw, tapping his toes and saying a word to go with it.

"Someone's. Gonna. Be. Back. At. Work. Soon," she said jokingly, making Nick withdraw his paw and smile.

"The movie is starting, would you stop it," he said. She laughed and went back to his side, looking up at him, expecting a kiss.

"Come here," she said, trying to get him closer. She knew that he knew what she wanted but he was being a jerk.

"Nope, not for the toe tickler," he said, turning his head away as she got closer.

"Oh come on," she complained. He smirked and looked back to give her a quick but sweet kiss.


End file.
